Stepping off the plane and down the shaky metal staircase, the first cool caress of Senegalese breeze met my damp face. It was colder than I had expected, and urged me towards the doorway leading into the airport - as if to say that the 9-day countdown had started already and there wasn't a moment to lose in experiencing all that Senegal had to offer.
I had not anticipated that my return to West Africa, almost 6 months to the day since I had left Ghana, would invoke such a powerful olfactory recognition. But as I walked through those airport doors and into the buzzing neon yellow lights of the baggage claim I found myself inhaling a deeply a familiar, comforting scent. It was a detoxifying blend of earth, aging and well-worn furniture, and plain, fresh soap.
I found my stiff muscles suddenly relax along with my mind as the aroma transported them both to the doorway of the barn in Montana where I rode Arabian horses for 9 years. That barn in the Bitterroot Valley has such a similar smell: horse hair, saddle soap and wooden stalls made smooth from decades of use by horse and rider.
I realized at this moment that traveling in parts of the world far away from my own instills in me the same feelings of being complete and at peace, free and weightless, that I have every time I ride.
It is amazing how the sense of smell can bridge two different worlds and simultaneoulsy make a country in West Africa feel like home in Montana. Coming back to Africa was like coming back home.
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